


The Artist

by DarlingBird



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Force Visions, Gender Neutral, Mandalorian Creed, Multi, Soulmates, The Force, force sensitive reader, hint at future relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25279669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarlingBird/pseuds/DarlingBird
Summary: The Mandalorian arrives to an unfamiliar planet in pursuit of a bounty on a local artist. The job should have been easy and quick, with hardly an issue for someone of his skill. However, pulling back the curtain to the Artist's studio he is met with something that had instantly filled him with dread and fear. His face. More specifically, portraits of his face on every surface possible in the room. This horrid discovery by the Mandalorian had officially turned this simple bounty into something deathly personal.(This is a fic I had posted to my tumblr and finally decided to post here as well!)
Relationships: The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV) & Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Comments: 7
Kudos: 126





	The Artist

**Author's Note:**

> The originally idea for this fic came from the user @mandowhorian on tumblr!! It was a really lovely idea and I just couldn't resist writing it. 
> 
> Original Post: imagine Din accepting a bounty for force sensitive artist reader and when he pulls up to her private studio it’s just filled of paintings of him with his mask off because she’s been getting visions of her soulmate..
> 
> **I did try to keep this one gender neutral. I don't write gender neutral fics often so I'm sorry if there are any slip ups! If you notice any slip ups please tell me so I can fix them! I really would like to get into writing more gender neutral and male reader fics ^-^

The bounty should have been simple enough. The mandalorian had been tasked with bringing in a lone artist from the outer rim. The artist was overdue on some payments to a lone shark and had seemingly gone into hiding to avoid these payments. Originally, he hadn’t planned on taking the job, but the pay was decent enough and it should have been rather easy. It wouldn’t take much to bring in the little artist, though he had been warned about them having some weird abilities. 

Din wasn’t too concerned in that regard. He’s seen some weird stuff in his time as a bounty hunter. Honestly he wasn’t sure anything could top the child and his strange powers anyway. Although with that in mind, nothing could have prepared him for what he was about to walk into. 

The bounty hunter had approached the structure quietly, it was later in the evening and much of the busy crowds were leaving for the night. The studio was small with tables propped out front, most likely used for sales, though today they had remained empty. He had asked some locals about the artist, learning how the artist was currently grieving and wasn’t offering or selling any services at the moment due to it. Many of the locals even saying that they hadn’t even seen the artist emerge from their studio for some days now. 

Din had ended up watching the little studio for most of the day anyway, looking for signs of the bounty. Truth to the locals words, the bounty never emerged to sell their works. So, with the streets having become empty and with no signs of the artist, he made his way to the entrance of the building. 

Pulling back the cloth to the entrance of the bounties private studio, Din was met with something he had never expected to see within. His face. Specifically, his face plastered everywhere on canvases around the studio. 

Din had stumbled back in shock at what he saw, knocking over some paint cans as he did. He felt frozen in time standing there staring at the works of art and suddenly felt himself become overwhelmed with a multitude of emotions. 

Managing to collect himself, he straightened and slowly walked through the room, taking in each painting he saw. Every painting was unique in some way, whether it be from the paint used or the style in which it took. Some were younger versions of himself while others reflected his current aging features. His fingers had trailed lightly across the surface of one painting in particular, a dark and gloomy piece hidden away in a corner. Similar to the others, it was of his face, but this time it was bloody and bruised. His portrait self almost looking to be on the brink of death. 

Din had a feeling of when this painting had been painted and why it was done in the way that it was. How did they know what he looked like that day? Did they see? He wasn’t even aware of anyone else, other than the droid of course, being there. How did he not notice them? 

Many thoughts and feelings were pouring through him while looking at the piece of art. Feelings of confusion, anger, and distress had soon consumed him, but the worst of it all had to be the feeling of fear. 

Fear because someone had seen his face. Fear because this meant his creed was crumbling to ashes before his eyes. Fear because it was possible that it may have been like that for longer than he ever knew. Fear because in this moment everything he had worked for was crashing down around him and he wasn’t even exactly sure how it happened. 

Engrossed with his worries, the Mandalorian didn’t even hear the artist approaching. Coming through a back hallway, the artist had suddenly appeared from around a corner, stopping when their eyes landed on his form. They looked at him from afar, watching him take in the painting before him. Not even aware of the distress that currently wrecked the Mandalorian’s body and mind. Their own head tilting to the side as confusion began marking their own soft features, and wondering why a Mandalorian of all things had stumbled into their studio. 

“Can I help you there? Customers aren’t supposed to enter the studio and I’m not currently taking any orders.” 

Hearing them speak had snapped him out of his confused daze and he slowly turned his head to stare at them silently. He knew instantly based off the description from the client that this was his bounty standing before him. The Mandalorian’s mind soon beginning work over time to try and comprehend exactly what his target was doing. His mind trying to work out the answers to his bundles of questions. 

Were they trying to mock him? Trying to act as if they had no idea who he was or what they had done? This had to be a plot that they came up with. They must have known he was coming and had plotted how to distract him. Maybe they just wanted to taunt him? A sort of ‘fuck you I know your face and have ruined your life’ kind of taunt. 

“You’re a mandalorian right? Are you after a bounty-” 

Din was swift and predatory in his movements, not giving them time to finish their sentence as he grabbed and pinned them to the ground. Their tiny wrists held in his one hand, pinned above their head, while he roughly shoved a blaster to their cheek. His body had soon pressed into theirs as a way to use his size and weight to keep them still underneath him. He radiated danger and had waves of anger rolling off of him. The sight of him in this angry state certainly would have had any number of people running, included the artist if they weren’t currently pinned underneath him. 

The artist had squirmed under him in panic, attempting to free themselves, but not being able to due to his sheer strength. He could feel the heat from their body seep through his armor into his own, and any other time being this close to someone would have made the Mandalorian flush. However, at this moment, Din wasn’t concerned about such things. He was more worried about the fact that the person underneath him knew his face. 

“What’s with all the paintings? How do you know?” He growled out, his grip tightening around them, his helmet now inches from their own face. 

A whimper sounded from the artist below him and tears had begun to form at the corners of their eyes, “I-I don’t know what you mean.” Their voice was shaky and their form trembled under his. They were utterly powerless and weak when compared to the Mandalorian. 

He scoffed at their response, it wouldn’t be the first time a bounty had tried to play innocent and dumb. Shedding some fake tears wasn’t going to soften him up any bit. “Don’t act dumb. How did you find out? Where did you see it?” 

“Find out what? I-” They paused as he had moved the blaster closer to them as they spoke. “I-I really don’t know what you mean!” 

Admittedly, the job was far from his mind at this moment, all he cared about was dealing with the fact that someone had seen his face. That this person before him had decided to taunt him with the knowledge of them having seen it. Job be damned, it felt like his whole self was destroyed, his creed most likely broken. He could care less about the dumb bounty job. He just needed answers. 

Din growled again, his anger continuing to grow as they proceeded to deny any knowledge of what he was asking. He ended up hulling them to their feet, his grip never loosening as he did. He turned them around to face the corner which held the painting he had looked at not too long ago. He had pressed himself into their back when he did, a hand coming to roughly grab their chin to force them to look at the painting before them, the blaster still at the ready if needed.

“That face.” He gritted out, his fingers beginning to dig into their skin, “Where did you see it?”

He watched as their fearful expression morphed into that of one marked with sadness. A frown had now etched across their lips, and they looked away as a few of their tears finally slid down their cheeks. 

Din was surprised by their reaction, he thought for sure they would have given up the whole innocent act by now or would have at least slipped up a bit. However, they didn’t and if anything it only made them seem to be more genuine in his eyes—a thought that both angered and confused him more than anything. 

Mumbled words was the only reply he got from them at first, their voice barely audible to him, “What was that?” 

“He’s my soulmate… or he was supposed to be at least.” 

Din could feel himself pale under the helmet at their words, a feeling of shock once again spreading throughout his body, as he found himself letting go of them in an instant. His anger had disappeared completely at hearing their explanation—leaving only confusion in its wake.

It crossed his mind briefly that they could be messing with him still, but the expression they wore and the sincerity in their voice had stomped the idea completely. They were being serious, and Din had no idea how to handle such information. 

Stepping back from them, the blaster fell to his side. “I.. what?” were the only things he could manage to say in his stage of shock and confusion. 

“Do you know what the force is?” 

“Barely.” 

“Well, through the force, I get force visions of him all the time. They’re usually just his face, his surroundings were always blurry to me, but his face was always clear.” They began to explain as Din listened while remaining silent, “The force is not strong with me, so I think that’s why the visions were not always so clear to me.” 

“So this isn’t just some sort of sick joke of yours to try and mock me?” He asked, still having some trouble in believing what the artist was expressing to him. “You’re not lying just to try and get me to not take you in?”

He watched as anger had marked their once saddened features, “A joke? You think I would joke about something like this? That I would spend years of my life painting and wondering where he was—wondering if he was safe?” 

Din stood and just listened as they went off on him. Their anger about the accusation evident as they bitterly ranted to him about his behaviour during the past half hour or so. He continued watching as their rant died down to them just fuming while looking at anything that wasn’t him—clearly upset and hurt by his remarks. 

“If you’re here to collect me for a bounty just get it over with, don’t deepen my grief.” Sometimes he could forget how insensitive he could be. It was already clear enough to not have been some joke or plot. So why did he have to continue suggesting such things? 

The room had filled with silence after the artist had finished their long winded speech to him, and it felt stuffy with the new atmosphere between them. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…” His voice was the first to break the silence before he had trailed off again, “What made you think the visions were of your soulmate?”

They had seemed to calm again with his question, a sigh escaping their lips as they went to continue their explanation from before to the Mandalorian, “Honestly? I didn’t think such a thing at first, but eventually, I could just feel it.” They paused, seemingly trying to figure out how to word their thoughts before speaking once more, “I guess you could say I just knew that this was the man I was connected to for life. I could feel it in my heart—in my soul. He was the man I was going to spend the rest of my life with, or at least I thought so until the last one….”

The artist trailed off again, a habit of theirs that Din had noted to himself as he watched them go over to look at the painting properly. Their arms had crossed over their chest now, hugging themselves as if they were cold, but it seemed to be more for personal comfort than anything. Din had took note the expression they wore on their face and suddenly felt a rush of guilt flow through him for how he had previously handled them.

“The last one?” He couldn’t help but question. 

They nodded and smiled sadly at him as they wiped the tears falling from their eyes “I think I saw him die some months ago. The last vision I had of him was of him looking like that and I haven’t had any visions since.” They had motioned in the direction of the painting before them, only providing more evidence that it was in fact a painting of the face he had wore while on the brink of death that fateful day. 

“So I think he…” their words died in a quiet sob, one of their hands clasping over their mouth as he watched their figure become consumed with grief. 

The words from the locals of the artist grieving came back to him as everything began to fall into place. This person was grieving who they believed to be their soulmate. They were grieving Din and they hadn’t even met him. It was something difficult for him to fathom at first, but seeing how it broke them had made his heart sink none the least. 

“He’s not dead.” The words left him before he could stop himself. The urge to suddenly comfort the distressed artist before him coming to light. 

The artist turned to look at him suddenly, almost doing a double take from his words “Wait do you know who he is?” They questioned, their expression changing from one of sadness to wonder. “What’s his name? Is he ok? Can you take me to see him? I’ll pay you…” 

Their voice stopped registering in the hunters mind as he tried to comprehend their questions and excitement. They weren’t lying. They were being truthful in everything they spoke and they had no clue that the face in the paintings were his. They truly didn’t know anything about him other than what they had seen in their visions and yet they loved him enough to grieve for him. 

Din didn’t know how to answer all those questions of theirs. It was him. The answer was simple yet also hard to articulate. The man in their paintings, in their visions, was him. 

That was his face. His face which no one was supposed to see. He almost wanted to yell out that it was him. He wanted to scream to them about the creed and how it was everything to him. 

The creed he swore might be in question now and he didn’t know how to feel about it other than dread. He understood how some circumstances were accepted in regards to others seeing his face. Did a soulmate having visions fall within those categories? He didn’t know, but really hoped so at this moment. 

“It’s me.” The words finally wafted out his modulator in a whisper, barely audible, but the artist had clearly caught it. 

The artist had stared at him with shining wide eyes. A hand had come to their mouth again but this time in surprise. Not being able to bear looking at them anymore, the Mandalorian turned away again. as his heart began beating rapidly in his chest at the confession. “It’s my face. It’s me.” 

Their reply was equally as quiet, a mere whisper through the air, “R-Really? You’re not lying?”

The only response he could muster was a small nod, as he was afraid of how his voice would sound. There were so many things to discuss with them. Things like his way of life and the danger it entailed. He also needed to tell them about the creed, and most importantly, the child in his current care. All of this didn’t even include the things he was sure they had to tell him. 

Din had jumped at the sudden feeling of their body pressing into his back. His mind blanking at their touch and smell engulfing him. The feeling of them wrapping their arms around his waist had caused a flush to spread over his skin and a shaky breath to barely sound through his modulator. It had been so long since someone had touched him in the slightest and he wasn’t prepared for it to happen like it just had.

“I was beginning to think I’d never meet you, I mean, I literally thought you died.” Their words were muffled into his armored back and hearing them he felt his heart clench again.

Seeming to catch themselves, the artist pulled away from him, shyly looking away at the realization of their impulsive actions. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hug you out of the blue like that.” They had managed to stutter out, “It’s felt like I’ve known you forever even though we’ve really just met and I literally thought I had lost you. So I guess I’m just happy.” 

“It’s fine” He replied quietly, feeling his heart skip a beat at seeing the small smile that graced their cheeks from his words. “It should be me saying sorry for how I treated you earlier anyway.” He continued, turning to face them properly and looking down at their wrists he had grabbed so harshly not too long ago.

“I mean you’re a mandalorian right? Your kind don’t show your faces to anyone, I’m sure it was quite a shock to see all the paintings.” 

He was surprised with them having some sort of knowledge of his way of life. Even if it was so little, any amount was better than none. “You know of mandalore?”

The artist shrugged, looking down at their hands as they twirled their fingers. “Only a little of what I have heard. People say you’re the fiercest warriors in the Galaxy.” 

He nodded in reply to them as they fell into an awkward silence once more. Honestly, Din had never talked much in the first place and he had already talked more than what he was used to within the last hour. He also wasn’t really sure where to start. 

What did they do now? Did he invite them back to the ship? Ask for them to pack up and move in? Maybe they should just call it a night and worry about it in the morning. It was late after all, and of course the child still waited for him to return. 

“Are you going to turn me in? That’s why you’re here right? I’m your bounty.” The artist was still smiling at him even after such inquiries, “I won’t stop you if you want to. Just knowing you’re ok is enough for me. I don’t want to get in the way of your job.” 

Sweet. Too sweet. Maybe even naive. That was how Din would describe them in this moment. He believed them too in their claims, that they would happily let him take them to their impending doom at the hands of some scummy lone-shark. 

Din was honestly surprised to see how easily they just offered themselves up to him. How easy would it be to just take them up on their offer and turn them in. After turning them in, he could then just shove the whole experience into the back of his mind to be forgotten. It would be a simple and easy process for someone of his kind.

“No.” He answered, not even needing to think about the answer for long. There was no way he could turn them in now. “I… it’s just…” He trailed off, even now trying to find a logical response to his reasoning. Even if one wasn’t needed in the first place. 

Many others wouldn’t care. They would turn in the artist without a thought, soulmate or not. It wouldn’t matter to them, but to Din. To him it mattered more than he ever thought it would. 

“Are you good with kids?” He asked them, thinking of the child waiting for him. He could already see the child taking a liking to them and the idea of having some help with the child was something he looked forward to. 

“You have kids?” 

He shifted uneasily at their question, feeling oddly vulnerable in this moment, “Sort of, I have a foundling in my care and have been thinking about getting someone to help with caring for him.” 

Din couldn’t explain the sudden concern that he felt at telling them of the child. He didn’t understand the sudden want for them to accept the little womp rat. The thought of maybe them not wanting anything to do with him now that they knew he had a child in his care actually scared him. Even worse, he found himself fearing their rejection, already having a desire to keep them with him. 

Which is why he was happy to see the large grin that had spread across their cheeks at hearing about the child, “I would love to help you with that.” 

“The position is permanent.” He said with a teasing undertone in his voice, not being able to help the sudden bubble of happiness which had swelled within him. 

“Oh I would hope so.” 

A grin had spread across his lips under the helmet at their own teasing reply, and he found himself closing the distance between them once more. One of his gloved hands had came to their cheek, tilting their head to look up at him. In response one of their own hands, paint stains and all, covered his. He had watched them for a bit like this, before finally pressing his helmet against their forehead. 

A Keldabe kiss.

He wasn’t sure if they knew exactly what he was doing, but he would explain everything to them soon enough. For now, he just enjoyed the moment he was sharing with them. His eyes closing, as his arms had moved to wrap themselves around the artist to hold them closely. 

They had then stood embracing each other for a while, just allowing each other to take in the other’s presence while they did. Honestly Din found himself never wanting to let go of them again—a feeling foreign but not unpleasant for him. 

Din couldn’t explain why it felt so right to be this close to someone he barely knew. He couldn’t even understand why he had suddenly wanted to spend the rest of his life with this person. The only thing known to him in this moment was that before him stood a person who would be forever intertwined with him.

His clan of two had become a clan of three.


End file.
